March 6, 2008
Winter; a constant fight for food. The deer
come and go in search of survival. I watch
from behind the glass with the sweet, airy aroma of cookies in the oven waiting to turn a crispy brown. I spot
worry in their faces-- Will we make it past today? -- I seem to have a connection with the mother and fawn. I inch
closer to the creatures- they are frozen in their own tracks. I halt near the Jacuzzi as aqua steam and chlorine rise to the heaven in the stiffening night breeze.
Their pupils enlarge as the image of me does to them as I advance forward.
No trust is between us-- I have not yet earned any.
I make a slight flick of my toes to fluff the dandruff off.
Frail limbs scatter along the snow covered moss.
The glowing eyes stand out as a lunar eclipse.
The coat worn is course and filthy for the nature of wild animals. I will never
touch the deer hide with a heart still thumping inside.
One more step: I am alone now; cold and lonesome, knowing I have a home to lean on -- but them.
They have nothing.

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